


The True Queen of the Mystics

by Zipis



Category: Chrono Trigger
Genre: F/M, Sappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 20:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14293020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zipis/pseuds/Zipis
Summary: Three years have passed since the defeat of Lavos, and Lucca is now living in 603 AD in a certain warlock's castle





	The True Queen of the Mystics

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This was my first fanfic… ever. Written in 2004 on my old account. I’ve attempted to clean it up without changing it too dramatically, to preserve what it was.

Three years had passed since the fateful day when a band of amateur heroes triumphantly overcame all odds and saved their future from destruction at the hands of an extraterrestrial being named Lavos. During their travels, some of the group found love, some found hope, others found purpose. However, one found loneliness, and in time, confusion.

That same one could now be seen gazing thoughtfully out the window of a newly constructed castle which existed four hundred years before her time. The window was open, allowing a breeze to drift in to the large, extravagant bedroom, causing her short, purple hair to sway gently.

Lucca Ashtear had lived in that castle nearly two years now. She was treated like a queen by the many servants that inhabited the castle, and she had everything she could have ever hoped for. There were no boundaries as to what she could buy. Her huge closet was full of clothes she rarely wore, and though she did not care for jewelry, she had tons of it. She even had a workshop where she could build whatever brilliant invention her mind came up with. She was considered the luckiest woman in the world to all. Or, at least, to all of the Mystics who thought of her as their queen, thus treating her as such.

Yes. She was more or less Queen of the Mystics.

However, this is what troubled her. She did not understand exactly how or even why she had become their "Queen". She did not understand why their tall, blue-haired King had come to her a year after they parted and took her here. For that matter, she didn't understand why Magus had come to her at all. They had never been close during their quest, and it wasn't as though they had had any sort of affair with each other before, either.

As she sat in the window of the room she shared with him, she thought about the last three years of her life.

After the defeat of Lavos, and after saying farewell to those of her party that came from, and were thus returning to, different times, she had tried to live a life of her own. She moved out of her parents’ house and into a small cottage in the nearby mountains. As she reasoned, the mountains were a perfect place for her to go, since she loved everything about them. The truth, however, was that she wanted to get away from the house that held so many happy memories of she and Crono.

He hadn't died; he was quite well in fact. He just had someone else in his life now. She didn't love Crono as anything more than a friend, and she never had. She was happy for him and his new found love, and if she felt any jealousy it wasn't because he loved the beautiful princess and not her. The idea was simply ridiculous. Any jealousy she felt would have been because they, two of her best friends, had found something she never expected to find: true love.

Unfortunately for her, after Crono and Marle had wed, his visits to Lucca became less and less frequent, until all she heard from him personally was what he wrote to her in his letters. It was understandable. Learning how to run a kingdom was no simple business. But she really didn't have any other friends, so without him around loneliness reared its ugly head. Everywhere she looked in her old house reminded her of him. She had to get out and away from there before she broke down.

She led a peaceful life in her mountain home. But still she was lonely. For over a year she lived alone there, until the blue-haired man she had never expected to see again suddenly showed up at her front door.

That night, she had been feeling especially isolated, and she was sulking in a chair in her kitchen. When there was a knock on the door, she was more than a little surprised. Not because it was so late, but because no one had ever knocked on her door before.

When she regained her presence of mind, she went to the door and cautiously opened it. To her even greater surprise, Magus stood there. For a long while she just stared at him, utterly bewildered by her unexpected visit from this man. When she opened her mouth to speak, Magus stopped her with a simple raise of his hand.

Without her inviting him, he quickly strode past her and into the house, cloak sweeping behind him with an air of regality. After closing the door, she silently watched him explore her home, his expression cool and emotionless. After a time, he turned to her, folded his arms over his chest and looked her straight in the eyes.

Suddenly she understood, though she knew not how. He wanted her to come with him. Perhaps it was because she was afraid of not complying to his wishes – his temper ever short – or maybe because she was lonelier than she had realized. Whatever it was, it soon had her gathering her few most precious items and leaving her mountain home to go with him.

She followed him down the path silently, moonlight spilling through the trees in streams of silver. She watched him move in front of her, his movements as confident and pointed as they ever were as he glided above the ground, hair a veil of blue billowing in the breeze. Only crickets and owls broke the silence of the night as they moved. Just when the question had finally come to her mind as to how he had gotten to her time, Magus came to a stop and began to glow slightly. He gave no warning before he grabbed her arm, causing her to nearly cry out in surprise, and then a strange sensation of falling came over her, her surroundings fading to black. The darkness didn't last long, however, and before her mind had fully registered what was going on, they were back in the mountains.

Not  _her_  mountains, however. These mountains, she knew, were years ahead of her time. She looked over at Magus, and gasped quietly at what she saw. He had fallen to the ground and was paler than usual, a feat she would never have thought possible. He was breathing laboriously, a cold sweat lacing his brow. Apparently, whether he was the most powerful sorcerer of all time or not, time travel was not an easy thing to accomplish, and it had taken its toll on his body.

Lucca knelt next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to help him up. However, even in such a state, he was still proud and arrogant, and roughly brushed her hand aside. Slowly, using his scythe for support, he rose to his feet, fixing her with a cold stare, and continued on. The journey took most of the night, even with him carrying her across the water that separated the mainland from his island.

It turned out that Magus had easily convinced the mystics to return to him. Even Slash, Flea and Ozzie had returned, much to her surprise considering she could have sworn they had died at the hands of herself, Crono and Magus. In fact, Magus had been the one she thought to have disposed of Slash, and yet here the swordsman was, swearing his allegiance to Magus. And, to her greater surprise and bewilderment, her.

Apparently, whatever the dark wizard had brought her here for demanded a lot of respect from the mystics. Again, when she had opened her mouth to ask him what was going on, he stopped her with an upraised hand, and walked swiftly over to where a castle – substantially bigger than the one she had met the mystic king in for the first time – towered above her.

As they approached the heavy wooden doors that led into the castle, two Imps scrambled to open the way for the both of them. Lucca followed Magus into the dreary castle, its atmosphere as foreboding as it had ever been, and began to wonder why she had come with him at all. It was too late to turn back though. She doubted that Magus would open the portal for her after all of this trouble. 

After passing through numerous corridors and hallways, they came upon a dimly lit room with several overstuffed chairs and an equally overstuffed couch. Magus gestured to her to sit on the sofa. She did so, still afraid of not heeding his requests. Before she sat down, he eyed her a good long while, and she shifted uncomfortably. The look in his eye was exactly the same as the look he got when he was considering what to do with those who stood in his way.

Finally, a servant came in with some glasses and wine, breaking Magus’s stare by walking in front of her. He seemed a bit upset at first, and perhaps the Mystic knew this, because the poor thing whimpered a little and set about his work faster.

However, the Magus’s annoyance faded after a time, and he went over to a cabinet and pulled out several beakers, vials, and other such containers. Then he went to another cabinet and brought out several oddly colored liquids.

With these in hand, he sat down in one of the chairs opposite her, and, after looking her over a few minutes more, started to mix together some foul smelling concoction.

They sat there for a long time, Magus mixing liquids of every color together and Lucca sipping delicately at her wine. She had nothing better to do, and she seriously doubted that the little Mystic who brought the wine would take the chance of coming in again for fear of Magus taking the Mystic's life. So she intended to preserve what she had.

After a long while, Magus seemed to have finished making his potion, suddenly rising to his feet and walking toward her. She watched him approach, a tendril of fear at her core as he held out the horrid smelling liquid to her. Her first thought was that he was using her as a guinea pig to test out a new spell. She refused to take it at first, fearing that she might be turned into something like Glenn had been turned into a frog. However, one look into his eyes told her that Magus was getting impatient, and the tendril of fear grew within her. Reluctantly, she took the concoction from him, and drank it. The taste was horrible, but the small smile that played at the corners of his mouth was somehow worse. It had an ominous feel to it.

With the beaker of liquid emptied, Magus once again motioned for her to follow. This time she was brought to a grand bedroom. She was amazed at how eloquent it was. There was a beautiful dresser at the other side of the room, and next to it was a vanity mirror so elegant, it rivaled Marle’s. There were two closets, one empty and the other filled with expensive clothes for a woman - though she noted that there were few dresses. The third door led to a marvelous bathroom, and just about everything in it was made out of black marble.

Turning back to the room, she noticed three more pieces of furniture. One was a chair that resembled the ones in the room they had just left, the other a sofa the size of a small bed, and from the looks of it, more comfortable than any bed she had ever slept in. The last was a bed about three times the size of her old one, with a mattress so soft she couldn’t help but wonder at it. The sheets were all made out of either black silk or black velvet, and the pillows were every bit as soft and welcoming as the bed.

She assumed that this was to be her room, considering all of the jewelry on the dresser and all of the women's clothes in the closet, and she was half right.

She turned to Magus, expecting him to leave so she could get undressed and go to bed. It was now about three thirty and she was exhausted. However, he did not leave. Instead, he locked the door with a smirk, and strode over to where she stood by the bed.

Understanding crashed into her, and her pulse quickened as the realization stirred up every possible emotion in her. Fear, anger, nervousness. Excitement.

Apparently, Magus had been feeling a bit lonely himself, and had sought her out for his own benefit. She was the only woman who was not taken by another man that he knew of, and he knew also that she would be weakened by loneliness after losing her best friend, making her an easy target for his intents.

In one swift movement, he had gently laid her down on the bed, her head swimming from more than just the movement. A part of her was still afraid of him, yet a part of her felt that this was right, and she wanted it too. She somehow felt safe in his arms, even though the amount of clothing she wore was slowly disappearing.

After assuring herself that she would be okay, Lucca relaxed and succumbed to Magus, allowing herself to actually enjoy what he did to her, however new she was to it.

The next morning, she awoke pressed against him. He was on his back, lips parted slightly as he breathed, his beautiful hair fanned out beneath him. One arm draped around her, holding her close. A warm feeling spread through her, and, comforted, she laid her head on his chest, holding him tighter, and fell back into a peaceful slumber.

Now, two years after that night, she sat at the window of that very same room. The empty closet was now filled with Magus’s many different cloaks and other clothes, and he slept there every night. It was as if the two were married

They were not, however. And it was this that was eating away at Lucca.

It wasn’t that she needed to be married; no, such a thing was somewhat trivial to her. What bothered her was that she had been his call girl for two years, and she didn’t know if there was anything more to it than that. She believed that it really didn't matter if they were married or not, all that mattered was that they loved each other.

There was a hollow pang in her chest at that thought. She had somehow grown to love Magus deeply during their time together, and would give anything for him. However, she was not sure whether he loved  _her_. In fact, she wasn't even sure that he was capable of love. The thought that she may just be a toy to him hurt deeply, and it was one that she usually pushed away from her mind. She couldn’t seem to do so tonight though, as she looked out over the soft glow of what would eventually become Medina.

The more she thought about it, the more she became sure that he was just using her to satisfy his needs. He was so often indifferent to her – cold even. They didn’t talk much, and the nights that he desired her, he would take her without a word of consent. He also always made her drink that foul potion beforehand, which she learned was to keep the sound of little feet pitter-pattering around out of the castle. She wasn’t ready yet, but she did want children eventually. Could she have that with him?

At this thought, a pair of strong arms suddenly encircled her, pulling her closer to the body behind her. The sudden contact startled her, but she soon relaxed as Magus’s familiar, intoxicating scent enveloped her.

Inhaling deeply, she looked up to see him looking at her searchingly, as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. With a quiet grunt of frustration, he seemed to give up, instead grabbing her hand and slipping a ring on her finger.

Wide eyed, she looked down at it. It was a beautiful thing, though simple. She noted with amusement that the stones embedded in the smooth metal were flush within the setting so they wouldn’t get caught in her work. More than that though, she stared in awe at the fact that that he had pointedly placed the ring on a very significant finger.

Looking back up at him, she noted that, despite looking away from her, an almost imperceptible smile played at his lips. As it all sank in, a warmth spread through her chest, and Lucca knew that he loved her.

The King of the Mystics had finally decided to make her the  _true_  Queen of the Mystics.


End file.
